


A tendency to wear hearts on sleeves

by kyasuriin



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-24
Updated: 2010-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-09 16:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyasuriin/pseuds/kyasuriin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A guitar is perhaps not something that friends, even bandmates, get for each other. Brendon just hopes Ryan won't notice the way his heart is practically falling off his sleeve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A tendency to wear hearts on sleeves

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [info]spencer_says &amp; [info]momebie for being made of AWESOME. Also a shout out to [info]rorylareina for her very helpful bandom primer on the boys' guitars which is what started this whole thing. There's a picture of the '73 Fender over there, if you're curious.

It is late when the taxi from the airport finally drops them off at Ryan's apartment building. After a ten minute search for the fob to open the gate, the security guard finally takes pity on them and opens it from his gatehouse.

"Long time, Mr. Ross," he says with a genial smile as they drive in.

"Touring," Ryan says with a responding shrug and smile.

"Are you going to be able to find your apartment key?"

"He has one," Ryan replies, nodding his head towards Brendon in the backseat beside him. Brendon pats his front pocket in which the key is nestled almost visibly through his tight jeans. He had dug the key out of his carryon luggage on the plane in anticipation for this very moment.

"You boys have a good night then," the guard says with a nod before waving them through.

"It's a good thing you keep me around, Ross," Brendon lightly teases as they drive up the laneway to the looming apartment building.

"Good thing," Ryan murmurs back tiredly - uncharacteristically agreeable due to exhaustion – with a half-smile that make Brendon's insides twist. He doesn't realize his leg is jiggling until Ryan places a hand on it and gives him a look.

"What's with you?" he asks.

"Just excited to be home," Brendon says – lies really. "I mean, in Vegas," he corrects himself after a moment, but Ryan doesn't seem to notice the slip-up. They climb out of the cab after paying the driver and grab the suitcases out of the trunk. Brendon tries to subtly grab the ones that seem heavier but, judging by the way Ryan sort of stumbles into his building, Brendon thinks he may have grabbed the wrong ones. Brendon's own suitcases are probably arriving at his own house around now, courtesy of Shane. Zack had offered to accompany Ryan to his apartment but Brendon had quickly offered, insisting that Zack should get home to his family (or dog, as it were).

"You coming up?" Ryan asks as they stumble over to the elevator. Brendon nods quickly. Too quickly, he thinks after. He should have probably asked Ryan's permission but whatever. You don't practically live in someone's back pocket and then start asking permission. The thing is, Brendon really wants to be here when Ryan opens the door and sees what Brendon got for him. Thinking about Ryan's reaction makes him even more nervous and he tries to settle his nerves as they wait for the elevator up to Ryan's apartment but, it's no use.

Brendon fumbles the key twice trying to open Ryan's apartment before he finally gets it open and holds the door open with his hip while Ryan shuffles in with his suitcases. Brendon lets the door shut behind him as he picks up the luggage left in the hallway and by the time he opens it again Ryan has the light turned on, illuminating the guitar resting against Ryan's nearly-new and never really used black leather couch.

"Brendon…" Ryan says slowly, "What is that?"

"Um, a guitar?" Brendon supplies, following Ryan's gaze to the '73 Fender. He sets down the suitcases in his hands and watches Ryan's reaction, a cloud of butterflies blossoming in his stomach. He'd had it delivered a couple weeks ago while they were on tour. It had only taken a bit of flirting to convince Ryan's former interior designer, who was still in possession of a key to Ryan's place to accept the delivery and drop it off. If Ryan's reaction is anything to go by, it was definitely worth the effort.

"Yes, but what's it doing here?" Ryan asks impatiently before walking over and kneeling beside the guitar. He reaches out tentatively and runs his hand over the side, curving his fingers around the neck. "Is this… do you think this is a.."

"'73 Fender," Brendon supplies helpfully from behind him and Ryan tears his gaze away from the guitar to look at Brendon.

"Brendon," he says in a low voice and Brendon can feel his face flushing. _Fuck_, he thinks to himself. This was a bad idea. This is practically sending a giant heart-shaped valentine declaring his ridiculously unrequited love to his bandmate. "Brendon," Ryan says again. "Did you – I mean, is this from _you_?"

Brendon nods. "Surprise?" he says weakly.

Ryan climbs to his feet quickly and Brendon takes a step backwards. "Brendon, you can't just – people don't go around buying people guitars."

"Think of it as a late Christmas present," Brendon says quickly. He had anticipated this much. "Or an early birthday present. I mean, it doesn't matter. I just – you wanted it." He pauses for a moment while he quietly panics. "This is the one you wanted, right?"

"Yes," Ryan breathes. "Yes, I wanted…" But he doesn't finish his sentence. Instead he wraps his arms around Brendon and squeezes tightly. Brendon squeezes back as well as he can.

"Hey," Ryan says after a moment and Brendon lets his arms fall. "Thank you," Ryan says, looking Brendon in the eye.

"You're welcome," Brendon replies, an almost automatic response. He shrugs. It's pretty simple in his mind. Ryan wants things and he wants to make Ryan happy. When these two things work together, everyone wins.

"It's not – " Ryan takes a breath and lets his gaze wander back over to the guitar before he glances back at Brendon. "This isn't the sort of thing friends buy for each other, is it?"

Brendon freezes, feels as though Ryan can see his heart beating in his chest, can hear how every thought in his head comes back to him. Brendon knew this was a bad idea.

"Sure they do," Brendon insists but it sounds weak even to his own ears. Ryan reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Brendon's ear. Brendon doesn't move though he desperately wants to step back; Ryan is suddenly far too close.

"No they don't," Ryan whispers and leans in to press his lips to Brendon's. Brendon is so shocked – nowhere had this entered into his plan except in his deepest fantasies – that he doesn't even close his eyes, doesn't react at all. "Or…" Ryan continues, pulling back, "Maybe they do." He sounds embarrassed in a way that Ryan rarely does and that, more than anything, is what springs Brendon into action.

"No," Brendon assures him quickly. "They really don't."

He reaches his hand up to cup the back of Ryan's neck and brings their lips together again. This time they're both ready for it, both just as nervous, if the tentative first kisses are any indication. Before long though the kisses deepen, become more heated and they forget to breathe before they break apart for air.

"This isn't just because…" Brendon can't help himself from saying, nodding towards the guitar.

Ryan raises his eyebrows. "You honestly think that I would just – "

"No!" Brendon interrupts. "But I had to check," he adds sheepishly.

"You're such an idiot," Ryan mutters but he leans in to kiss Brendon again so Brendon supposes he doesn't mind so much. He wonders how long Ryan has wanted to kiss him. He wonders if they'll kiss again tomorrow or if this is a one-time kissing thing. He wonders if they'll do more than kiss tonight before Ryan collapses from exhaustion. He wonders a lot of things before Ryan bites gently on his lip and then all his wonderings leave his mind entirely, replaced by the sole thought of _Ryan_.

They make it to the couch, carefully side-stepping the guitar, and it feels like those high school make-out sessions Brendon never got to have but fantasized about ceaselessly at the time. It's thrilling, being able to run his hand up Ryan's back and into his hair, and the way Ryan makes these soft noises when Brendon bites his lip or his ear has him making noises in response. It's not even what usually qualifies for good making out – their clothes are still all on and all things considered it's pretty innocent – but this warmth fills Brendon's chest and he knows he would be perfectly content making out like teenagers for the next hour, no end in sight. He has a good feeling this has everything to do with it being Ryan whose hand is on his thigh, not someone he met after the show.

Ryan, who he's wanted almost as long as he's known him. Ryan, who is currently pulling back from the kiss and smiling at him in such a way that makes Brendon's stomach clench pleasantly.

"Can we – " Ryan says, hesitantly – "Can we take a break just for a minute?"

Brendon looks at him, confused because he thought that was going well. Especially the ear nibbling and the hands wandering into each other's hair. "Um, okay?"

"I just – " he looks sheepish – "I sort of want to try out the Fender."

Brendon lets out a snort of laughter. "Of course you do," he says before kissing Ryan briefly. He can't even find it in himself to be annoyed because Ryan _kissed_ him and that was miles above how he expected this night to go. "Okay, yeah, go ahead."

And Ryan does, scrambling off the couch and picking up the guitar reverently. As he sits back down he gives Brendon a sly look. "You know," he says conversationally as he starts to tune the guitar, "this probably wasn't the best way to get in my pants. I'm going to want to play this _all_ night long."

Brendon raises his eyebrows. Did Ryan Ross really just talk about Brendon getting into his pants? "Next time I'll get you something far less enticing," Brendon says, rather than try and convince Ryan that he's better than a guitar. That is one pretty sweet guitar Ryan is holding.

"Or you could just, you know, not bribe me with gifts."

"I wasn't – I didn't expect –"

"I know," Ryan interrupts him. "I'm just saying – " He looks down at the chord he's playing softly – "It's not really necessary."

"No?" Brendon says softly and leans in to kiss Ryan's ear. The luxury of it, being able to kiss Ryan, sends a shiver up his spine.

"Not while I'm playing," Ryan murmurs distractedly, learning away from the kiss and Brendon sighs. This really was a bad idea, he thinks, but only for a moment before Ryan glances up and catches his eye. The smile, almost shy, that he gives Brendon as he starts to play _Behind the Sea_ makes the shipping and handling, shameless flirting, and near heart attacks all worth it.


End file.
